French stuff

Pictures from our picnic we had today with two friends, out by a lake outside of Limoges.

Russian is mighty difficult so far, we're learning how to "properly" write the alphabet and it is as constraining and demanding as having to learn how to write as a Kindergartner. I have been putting off going to the health care office and the prefecture; lately I don't feel as if I can stand the bureaucratic mess.

I finished reading Creezy and now the boring empty moments of my life seem that much more empty; it was basically like a vacuum, and all that was left in the end was: "this is what the modern being has come to: soulless and cold like steel"

It was written in the 60s, so what more can you really expect.

There were manifestations and strikes yesterday, yet again, against the reform of the retirement system.

 

In the afternoon, no buses, no moving traffic as people streamed through the streets, banging on steel poles and shouting and chanting with signs about no future. Lucky them, they chose the first warm day in one month to strike. In any case, France will still be the country with the lowest retirement age. Oh, and this is right in front of our apartment, more or less. Take a gander.

Later that evening, Antoine and I went out to a Basque (describing the south-west region of France that borders Spain) restaurant with the same two friends with whom we picnic-ed. It was possibly the best restaurant that I have been to in France yet; the food was delicious and beautifully and meticulously displayed, the service was - for once! - great (they refilled our water pitcher without us having to cry for it, prompt, professional, polite). They even served us little sausages and marinated mussels as appetizers,  bread, and after-dinner coffee, all complimentary. They also had great sangria, just like Spain.



Oh, and all for so cheap. The restaurant filled up fast as soon as we entered in, filling the place with a warm and festive ambiance. Of course it's popular.



The Basque region resembles Spanish culture; the food, the people, the traditions. Hence the bullfighting mural... Also an area of conflict, as there are people on both the French and Spanish sides of that border who refuse to give up their dialect and speak the "national languages" of their countries, and lute for independence. There is still the occasional car bombing, illegal arms deal in this region, always involving some independence terrorist group. Just goes to show you, terrorists aren't always Arabic. Jee-gads! They can be European, or even... American.